


Regarding Sam

by AllHallowsEve



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU for episode: S12e11 Regarding Dean, Black Grimoire, Fear, M/M, Memory Loss, Panic, Sam is the one losing his memory, Witches, based off my story What I Thought I Needed Most, curse, the boys are together, why does it have to be witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 17:54:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16022990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllHallowsEve/pseuds/AllHallowsEve
Summary: This is my take on what would have happened if instead of Dean being hit by a witch's curse in Regarding Dean, it had been Sam.  The boys are together because it is based not entirely on canon, but is set in the world of my storyWhat I Thought I Needed Most.





	Regarding Sam

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).
  * Inspired by [What I Thought I Needed Most](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8775925) by [AllHallowsEve](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllHallowsEve/pseuds/AllHallowsEve). 



> You don't need to have read my story that this is based on in order for this to make sense. You just need to know that the brothers are together in that universe. Everything else is canon, except that they have been together since the end of the episode The Foundry.
> 
> This story can work as a replacement for chapter 15 of my story, or just as a companion piece. 
> 
> You have the wonderful [snipermathlove29](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snipermathlove29/pseuds/snipermathlove29) to thank for this happening. It wouldn't have even crossed my mind to do this if they hadn't requested it of me. 
> 
> As always, this work is unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own. Please point any out so that I can fix them and make this work better for everyone.

Sam woke up and his head was throbbing.  He had no idea where he was and all he could think about was Dean.  He couldn't remember anything other than he needed to find Dean. 

He began to search his pockets as he stood up trying to find his bearings.  His knees wobbled a bit but he was able to put his hand against a stair railing next to him.  He looked up and realized he was in an alley between two tall buildings.   There was no sign of Dean, and he didn't know whether to be relieved that his brother wasn't hurt on the ground beside him here, or worried that Dean might potentially be missing.

Sam found his phone in his pocket but the screen was cracked and it wouldn't turn on.  The pounding in his head got worse as he moved but he knew he needed to figure out where he was and get to a phone to contact Dean.

He made his way to the street and from the signs around he realized he was at the back of the Eureka Springs Library.  He dusted himself off as best he could and went inside to ask to borrow the phone. 

"Sam, is that you?"  Dean's worried voice busted loudly against his eardrum before Sam even had a chance to say his brother's name into the receiver.

"Yeah Dean, it's me."  Sam had to hold the phone away from his ear a bit because Dean's voice was making his head throb so badly he was feeling sick to his stomach.

"Where the hell are you? Whose number are you calling me from?" Dean's worry had turned to anger instead of relief.  He had been driving the streets of the city all night looking for Sam.  He had made so many calls into the local hospital they told him they would have the cops trace his number if he didn't stop calling. 

"I'm at the library, Dean, could you please just come get me?"  Sam's voice was quiet and anxious.

The broken tone of it stopped Dean's wrath momentarily.  "Sure, Sammy, sure."

Sam thanked the woman at the desk and made his way out the door to wait on the bench in front of the building.  It was only a couple of minutes before he heard the Impala's rumble coming up the street in his direction.

Sam's began to smile at the sight but once he stood up, it turned into a grimace, because his stomach churned from the movement and his face paled from the nausea.

Dean left Baby idling and ran to Sam's side.  "Are you okay?  What happened?  Where have you been all night?"

Dean peppered his brother with questions as he helped him into the car.

"I don't know Dean.  I don't remember anything."

Dean was back behind the wheel and he ran his hand along Sam's head.  "Did you get hit on the head?"

"I really don't remember, Dean."  Sam's voice was sad and confused.

"I don't feel any bumps, is your head sore?"  Dean continued to check him for any abrasions or other damage.

"Not sore to the touch but I have a raging headache."  Sam reached up and brushed his fingers against Dean's hand.  Panic filled him as his skin touched his brother’s.  He wasn't supposed to touch him this way.  It wasn't allowed, Dean might figure out his desire.  But then a visceral entire body memory flooded him of the intense feeling of pleasure, having Dean balls deep inside of him in their shower just a few weeks ago.  He signed and allowed his fingers to flow over Dean's, relief flooding him again just like it did upon seeing Dean pull up in the Impala.

Dean grabbed Sam's chin and pulled his face in his direction, "Let me look at your pupils."

Dean looked worriedly into both of Sam's eyes.  "Your pupils are even, so hopefully you don't have a concussion."

Sam's stomach growled.  Dean gave a chuckle.  "You must be starving.  You never made it back for dinner."

Dean drove them to Waldo's waffles and insisted on plying Sam with whipped cream covered syrupy waffle goodness.  After Sam's third piece of bacon and a handful of Tylenol Dean had produced from his pocket, he began to feel a little bit more normal. 

Now that Sam was here and in one piece, Dean realized how exhausted he was.  He had been worriedly searching all night and panic had set in about 2am.  He had called Cass to see if he could help or had heard anything from Sam.  He had been sick with fear until the moment the phone rang. 

The straight adrenaline he had been running on had left him and his belly was full of warm waffles and bacon and the coffee had the opposite effect to what it usually did for him.  He was feeling snuggly and all he wanted to do was get Sam back to the hotel and go to bed.

Dean looked at Sam, his hair was disheveled and his clothes were torn and dirty.  "We should probably get you back to the motel and get you cleaned up."  He wiggled his eyebrows at Sam in hopes that his brother would want to do a little bit more together before they slept off the stress from the previous night.

Sam watched the eyebrow move and looked at Dean confusedly.  Dean's feelings were a little hurt but then the phone in his pocket began to ring.   It was the morgue attendant who had promised Dean a call when the autopsy on Barry Gilman was ready. 

He looked at Sam disappointedly, knowing Sam would want to get right over to the morgue when he explained who the call was from.  Sam again just gave him blank face.

Dean looked at his brother in concern.  "Are you sure you're okay?"

Sam asked why.  "Cause you suddenly don't remember the case that brought us to town?  The dead guy, throat stuffed full of money?"

Sam's eyes finally cleared and he nodded his recognition.  "Right.  Yes.  The accountant.  We were thinking maybe he was killed by a demon."

Dean visually relaxed.  He went back over the fact that they had a standing appointment with the morgue when the body was done with the autopsy.

Sam kept nodding.  "I guess we should get changed and get over there then."

Dean's tried to hide his disappointment.  "You know, when we went to his place yesterday, we got a whole bunch of jack and a little bit of squat.  There was no hex bags, no EMF, no sulfur.  Which means no case."

Sam's brows furrowed.  "If it's not a case, then what is it?"

Dean could sense Sam's gears begin to turn, wanting to figure out the mystery.  He knew this case was the entire reason they were in town, but he couldn't get over the sense of panic that had been flowing through his entire body the past 15 hours.  He was frustrated they had no idea what had happened to Sam, and he still seemed a little off.  He didn't want to jump right back into work, he wanted to hold Sam and let their being together comfort his ragged mind and body.

"I don't know.  Death by money?"  Dean's eyebrows raised and he shrugged his shoulders.  "You know, maybe the guy got whacked by uh, some mob dude with an ironic sense of humor."

He didn't mean for it to sound harsh, but his nerves were mostly shot and his exhaustion was kicking into high gear.

Sam took in his haggard countenance.  "I'm sorry Dean.  I know you said you were up all night worrying about me.  Of course you should go back to the hotel and get some rest.  I feel fine, especially now that my head has quit hurting.  Whatever happened to me I must have slept it off in the alley behind the library." 

"If we're going to figure out what happened to me, it probably has something to do with the case since I was doing research on it right?  It's the last vague thing I remember anyway so, I need to follow this up by going to the morgue."

Sam stood up from the counter where they were seated, dropping some money next to his plate, "I'll drop you by the motel on my way."

"Like Hell."  Dean stood and crowded in behind Sam.  "For the rest of this case, wherever you go, I go."

Sam smiled and grabbed Dean's upper arm and gave a squeeze.  Dean smiled, genuinely happy for the first time since Sam left him alone the evening before.

In the morgue the attendant brought a box of all relevant content from the deceased and handed it to Sam.  He took it and looked around the room a little muddled but then saw a silver tray next to the body and placed the box on it.  He picked the manila folder off the top of the box and opened it, but his brain didn't want to make heads or tails out of what was inside.  Dean watched Sam's face morph into befuddled blankness as he looked from the report up to Dean and back again. 

Dean took the report from Sam and began reading it, side eyeing Sam in a concerned fashion as he did so.  "So, cause of death was suffocation, officially."

Sam listened intently, things beginning to click back into place, saying, "We already knew that."

Dean continued to read as the report said to see one of the evidence bags in particular.  He walked around Sam, opening the box, and picked up the bag in question.  Sam watched as he began going through bags that were full of bloody contents.  Sam's stomach became squeamish and he was wishing he hadn't eaten so much at breakfast.

Dean picked up a bag that was so red it was hard to make out the wads of money inside.  Sam made a groaning sound and had to fight back the food that was threatening to make its way up to the surface.

Dean turned to look at him and said, "It says they pulled all this from his stomach."

Sam began to breathe through his opened mouth.

"Dude, what's wrong with you?"  Dean's brow frowned. 

Sam swallowed hard and managed, "Big breakfast," before running from the room to empty the contents of his stomach in the bathroom down the hall.

Dean finished going through the box trying to focus on the case and not the worry that was forming a hard knot in the pit of his stomach.  He had held his face together as much as he could while Sam was in the room, but he was truly concerned.  Yes he was relieved that Sam was no longer missing, but they had no idea what had happened to him, and even though there were no signs of concussion, his confusion and weak stomach made Dean sure, something was not right.

A chill ran up his spine as his hand found what felt oddly familiar in one of the sealed evidence bags.  He pulled it out and sure enough there was a small red hex bag visible through the plastic. 

_Just fucking perfect.  Witches._

He looked out the glass wall and made sure no one was around before slipping the evidence bag into his coat pocket.  He closed the box and left to go find Sam who was just coming out of the bathroom, wiping his mouth with a wet paper towel and looking pale and shaken. 

Dean explained glumly what he found as they walked out of the municipal building.  Sam didn't look any happier, than Dean felt, to find out they were dealing with witches.  They discussed the weirdness of someone wanting Barry dead.  His home and office had made the man seem downright boring and gave no clues why anyone would want the man dead. 

Dean said, "What would he have done?  Screw up someone's taxes?"

Sam turned to him and said, "Based on the paperwork in his office, he was more of a, a money, uhm..." 

Dean turned tense eyes at his brother who looked frustrated himself, before finally coming up with the term he was looking for.  "Money manager."

Dean nodded, "Yeah I remember you saying something about that yesterday."

"That kind of position, working with peoples' finances, it could make him one hell of an..."  Sam's eyes went blank again.

Dean waited a beat before asking, "Enemy?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah, one hell of an enemy."

Sam continued as if nothing was wrong, Dean realized that Sam didn't seem to know just how strangely he was acting and just how different his mind seemed to be functioning right now. 

Sam went on to explain that maybe Barry had blown the wrong person's savings, but they would have to go through all the clients because he worked for the richest families in town, any of which might want him dead if he screwed with their finances.

That explanation sounded much more like Sam and Dean was just beginning to feel better, but when they got to the front of Baby, Sam didn't head for his side of the car, he walked over to the driver's side and started searching his pockets, patting them down and seeming puzzled.  Dean walked over to him and put his hand on his shoulder asking him what he was doing.

Sam looked down at him and said, "I can't seem to find my car keys."

Dean tried to make light of how much this was bothering him to not freak his brother out.  He laughed and pulled out his keys, "Yeah that's cause unless I'm drunk or unconscious I drive."

Sam stared down at the roof of the car, and blinked, and blinked and looked around, and then blinked some more. 

Dean was not able to maintain his composure any longer, "Look, I know you want to work this case.  But now, especially with witches involved, we've got to be on top of our game.  I think we need to go back to the motel and get some rest, let that big noggin of yours have a little while to recover from whatever the hell happened to you last night."

Sam seemed to not be paying attention to him.  He just kept blinking as Dean spoke.

"Sam," Dean tightened his grip on his brother's shoulder. "Sammy?"

Sam looked at him, his eyes a bit dazed and asked, "Whose Sammy?"

Terror ripped through Dean's body, adrenaline rushing back through his entire system.  He grabbed Sam by the waist and manhandled him around the car and pushed him down into the passenger seat.  Sam started to get back out of the car and Dean pointed a finger in his face.  "You, stay."

His tone brooked no argument and Sam settled into the seat as Dean rushed back to his side and threw himself behind the wheel.  He drove as fast as he dared back to their motel room while insisting, "You are Sam, that's who Sammy is, it’s you."

Sam nodded slowly, and then shook his head.  His hair fluttered around his face and then his eyes cleared. "Of course I'm Sam."

"Sorry Dean, my head just seems to be a little fuzzy after last night but it feels clear now."

By the time they pulled in to the lot of the motel Sam was insistent he was fine.

Dean was having none of it, suggesting that Sam needed to go to sleep immediately, maybe even needed to go have an MRI or something in case his head had been injured the night before.  He kept an eagle eye on Sam as they moved side by side making their way towards their room.  Sam pulled the key to the door out of his pocket and unlocked it, saying "I told you I'm fine.  We can't afford to lose that kind of time with witches in the mix."

Dean's voice became insistent, verging on angry panic, as he followed him into the room, "Dude, you forgot your own fucking name."

Sam acquiesced, throwing up his hand saying, "For a second.  Okay, yeah, that was weird."

Dean's tone didn't ease much as he said, "Alright, look, we know we're dealing with a witch, right.  So maybe you got hexed?"

"No way Dean, if a witch hit me head on with a spell, I would be dead, not forgetting bits and pieces here and there."

Dean's voice rose. "Bits and pieces, dude, your name isn't a bit, okay?"

Sam just looked at him defiantly.

Dean thought for a moment, "Okay genius, if you are doing so well, name all your favorite serial killers."

Sam looked at him and said, "Really, Dean, we don't have time for this."

Dean's stare told his brother he wasn't getting out of this room again unless he could do what he asked.

Sam sighed.  "Okay no problem, we stayed the night in the house where..."

Sam's forehead wrinkled.  "Um... the woman..."

He ran his hands through his hair, "Um, the dude with the swastika carved into his ... um..."

Sam turned worried eyes to Dean.  "I don't know, I can't remember."

Sam's knees began to fail him and Dean was at his side instantly.  "Hey hey, little brother, it's okay."

Dean guided Sam's larger frame over to one of the beds and had him sit down.

"Listen, I'm gonna get you help okay.  I'll get you fixed right up in no time."

"Dean please don't call Cass, he has his own issues trying to find... "

His eyes got wide, "Dean... why can't I remember anything that I just had in my mind.  I just had her name, the woman who is carrying Luc... Luci..."

Sam grabbed Dean's hand.  "Dean..."

Dean sat beside Sam and pulled him into his arms.  "Shhh... Sammy, I've got you Sam.  We're gonna figure this out, I promise."

Sam clutched at Dean's coat and hung on. 

Dean pulled out his phone without removing his other arm from around Sam's shoulder.  He punched the button for Crowley and growled when one of his minions answered.  "I don't care what he is doing, tell him I need his help, it's an emergency."

He listened and got angrier by the minute.  "You tell that asshole, I'll..."  Dean swallowed hard.  "Tell him I'll owe him one."

Before the words had fallen from the air in the room Dean saw a dark shadow fill the bathroom doorway.  He looked up just as a smooth British accent suavely said, "Hello boys, what have you gotten yourselves into this time?"

Sam looked at Dean in horror.  "You called Crowley?"

"Look Sam, we need help." 

Sam sighed.

Dean gave Sam's shoulder a squeeze and stood up, explaining to Crowley what was going on.  Crowley said it could be a memory spell, but he looked Sam over and said, "The hair on his head hasn't fallen out, but just to make sure, I need to check him over, see if his body hair has fallen out and left him smooth under his clothes like a Ken doll."

"Hell no!" Dean shouted and moved between his brother and the King of Hell.

"You don't need to touch him to see that he obviously still has all his hair." Dean's growl made Crowley smile.  "Still the protective mother bear are you?"

"Well then, that rules out a mnemonic curse."  Crowley eyed Sam thoughtfully.  There are intricate magic spells that I don't know about.  I've only picked up a little here and there from mother. She's who we really should call." 

Dean rolled his eyes.  "Really?" 

He looked at Crowley challengingly, "You're the King of Hell.  You don't know anything more than that?"

Crowley cleared his throat and did his best to stand straight and look a little taller.  "Well, theoretically, most of those kinds of intricate magics, that would remove someone's memory over time, can be broken by killing the witch that cast the spell in the first place."

Dean looked at him and said, "Done." 

He turned his back on Crowley and bent down in front of Sam.  "Okay, we just have to retrace your steps from last night and figure out where to find this witch okay.  It should be no problem so come on Sammy, let’s go."

Crowley looked upset.  "What about me?  What about owing me one."

Dean turned on his heel to face the demon.  "Once Sam is okay, we'll talk.  Until then Sam is my number one priority."

He turned his back on Crowley again to help Sam standup and they both headed for the door.

Crowley sighed.  "Story of my life." 

After the Winchesters had left, he pulled out his phone and dialed.  He waited until a voice answered at the other end and said, "Hello Mother."

 

The brothers went back to the last place they were working the case, which was Barry Gilman's office.  Dean didn't see anything that would lead him to believe Sam had been here alone after they left.  He asked Sam to check the photos on the wall again and see if any of the people with Barry seemed familiar.  Sam looked and then turned to Dean, his face sad.  "I'm sorry, Dean, I don't remember any of these people."

Dean ran his fingers through Sam's hair soothingly, "It's okay baby boy. We'll figure it out."

Sam gasped, "Dean, why are you touching me that way?"

Dean looked at his brother perplexed. 

Sam's mouth gaped wide, "Oh my gosh Dean, did I tell you the truth about how I feel.  Oh my gosh, you aren't mad at me about it."

"Fuck."  Dean's face paled as he realized that Sam had forgotten they were together.

Sam's face turned sad.  "You are mad at me."

"No no Sammy, no."  Dean ran his hand down Sam's arm and squeezed his hand in his own.  "Sam, you’ve just forgotten, but we told each other we wanted each other the same way, it isn't just you Sam, I want you too."

Sam's face brightened. "Really?"

"Yeah Sam, think back, remember, two nights ago, when we checked into the hotel," Dean asked slowly, letting the implication hang in the air with hope.

Sam twisted his lips and bit his lower one.  "Okay, I remember we put our bags down as we came into the hotel and then you turned..."

Dean smiled and nodded.

"Oh!" Sam blushed.  "I remember now!"  The blush flowed down his cheeks and colored his neck bright red.

"Oh thank Chuck."  Dean smiled at Sam.

Sam squeezed Dean's hand in return. 

Dean looked around the office, "Okay, so think hard Sam, last night after we left here, I went to get us dinner and you were going to talk to someone at the library because we found out that Gilman was on the library board."

Dean watched as Sam's eyes went blank.  He didn't remember any of that.  Sam's eyes searched his in fear.

"No, no, no, Sam, don't worry, look, we have our starting place, right?  We know you were going to the library so we’ll just head over there and see what we find out."  Dean tried to sound calm and in control but inside his stomach was churning and his guts felt ready to vacate at any moment.

He put his hand on the small of Sam's back and led him out the door and back to the car.  He tucked him into his seat and closed the door after Sam had pulled his long legs into place.

Dean tried to breathe deeply and settle his nerves.  _They would figure this out. They had to.  They just needed to find the witch so he could put a witch killing bullet right between her eyes._

He slid in and put the key into the ignition. 

Sam turned to Dean and asked, "Hey Dean, where ya been."

Dean's face fell.  He swallowed hard and smiled as brightly as the sick feeling would allow and said, "Oh just getting prepared to go to the library, okay?"

Sam nodded and said sweetly, "Okay."

Dean drove back towards where he had picked Sam up only a few hours earlier, but it felt like it had been a month.  He was exhausted and stressed and had no idea how he was going to keep this fake smile plastered on his face but he had to find a way, the last thing he wanted to do was make Sam worry anymore than necessary.

They walked in and the woman behind the help desk smiled brightly.  "Agent Moon, you must really love it here."

Dean looked from Sam who had a confused blank smile on his face to the woman and back again.  He put on his best charming grin and asked "What do you mean."

The woman turned to Dean and said, "This is the 3rd time I've seen Agent Moon since yesterday afternoon."

"Really?"  Dean asked.

"Oh yeah.  He came in last night asking about poor Mr. Gilman, and before we really had a chance to chat much he took off towards the back quickly and I didn't see him again until this morning, when he came in asking to use the phone.  And now, here he is again."  She smiled brightly at Sam, batting her long lashes at him.

Dean cleared his throat, "Well you see Miss,"  The woman turned to him and said "Sasha," blushing.

"Well you see Sasha, my partner went after a suspect and received a head injury in the subsequent time.  He’s suffering from memory loss and we are hoping to retrace his steps so we can find the perp he was going after when all this happened."

"Oh my, how awful."  She said. She reached out and stroked Sam's hand where he was touching the desk. 

Dean had to fight back a growl.  "Do you have security cameras here?"

"Oh my yes, we can never be too careful you know."

Dean sighed in relief.  She led the two men to the security room and Dean rudely said, "We'll let you know if we need anything further, thanks." As he closed the door in her face.

They scanned the video inside and out of the library from the time the brothers had parted ways the night before.

It didn't take long for them to find the footage of Sam entering the library and chatting with the overly friendly, Sasha, at the front desk.  Dean noticed the minute Sam's attention was caught by a man leaving one of the side rooms.  The man noticed Sam and swiveled on his heel and ran towards the back of the library.  Sam took off after him and that was the last they could see from that camera angle.  They found the feed of the back door of the library in the alley. 

Sam said, "I think that was where I woke up this morning."

Dean patted his shoulder, "That's good Sam."

They watched as a thin short haired man ran out of the back door into the alley.  A moment later Sam's larger frame burst out the door. They both watched as Sam drew his gun as the smaller man raised his hand and Sam flew backwards into a pile of garbage bags propped next to the back door. 

In spite of being prone, Sam raised his gun and fired, clearly hitting the man.  Sam gasped, exclaiming in surprise that he had just shot that unarmed man.

Dean assured him it was okay, that he was a very bad man. 

They began watching the footage again and the man clutched his side and turned and left the video frame.  Sam managed to get up and began to make his way in the direction the man had exited, but a moment later there was a bright white light, the source of which was off camera and Sam flew back again, this time his body was thrown up in the air, landing back into the bags before rolling down onto the ground and not moving.

Dean turned to Sam, "You don't remember any of that?"

Sam's brow furrowed.  He shook his head glumly.  "Other than knowing that alley is where I woke up this morning, the rest is like watching myself on one of your Real Housewife shows."

Dean blushed.  "I told you, I thought maybe Kim Richards had been possessed, it was for a potential case."

Sam laughed.  Dean smiled fondly and said, "Okay, let's role this back and see if we can get a better shot of the witch's face."

He found the best spot that actually showed the guy's face a little clearer and said, "Wait a minute." 

He searched his own memory and realized this was one of the guys from all the photos on Gilman's wall in his office.  He told his brother, that was probably how Sam recognized the guy the night before.  He let the video continue to play out and when it got to the point where Sam had fired his gun from the ground Sam cried out in amazement, "I know how to shoot a gun?"

Dean face crumpled.  "Yeah big guy, you shoot real well."

Sam smiled at him gleefully and said, "That's so cool."

They made their way out the back of the library and Dean followed the area of the action from the video, shining his flashlight along the path the men had moved.  He found a shell casing marked with a W, which was the way they denote their witch killing bullets.  Dean showed the bullet to Sam and said, "See, you used one of our witch killing bullets."

Sam's eyes grew wide and he said, "Wait, there are witches?"

Dean turned to his brother and explained slowly, "Yeah Sammy, witches are real, so are vampires, werewolves, witches, they are all real."  He watched as his brother's face became more and more shocked as Dean added, "And we hunt them."

"But how do we know how to do that?  Did we have to get a special license?"  He searched his pockets and brought out his id, flipping it open.

"Oh man, I'm an FBI agent?"

"No Sammy, that’s just our cover.  We're hunters, we hunt the bad things in secret."

Sam nodded, "So we're secret agents?"

Dean just patted Sam on the back, not sure how much longer he could hold himself together. 

He swung his light around the alley in the direction the witch had run off and picked up a blood trail.  He pulled Sam along with him, not wanting to leave his brother out of his sight for one moment.

Sam asked him questions about how they knew what they knew about the supernatural and Dean explained that they had been training since they were kids.  That they were raised by their dad to fight all kinds of bad things and that they had saved the world from the apocalypse and that Sam had fought off Lucifer many times all by himself.  Sam gasped at that.

Dean turned to him, "Yeah Sammy, you’re the real deal.  You have saved the world," he looked into his beautiful brother's eyes and said, "You've saved my life more times than I can count.  You’re a hero, Sam."

Sam just blinked at him, his eyes getting a funny swimmy look and he reached out to Dean, nearly falling.  Dean grabbed him.  "You're okay Sammy, I gotcha."

Sam shook his head and looked at Dean.  "What's happening to me Dean?"

He sounded so scared and so young.  Dean swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. "You were taking down a bad guy and got hexed in the process.  But it's okay Sammy, we’re hot on his trail.  We’ll get you fixed up in no time."

Sam held on to Dean's arm to steady himself.  "Okay.  If you say so, Dean, okay."

Dean made a hurt sound in the back of his throat before he could stop himself and turned back to the blood trail.  He followed it down the opposite side of the alley from where he picked up Sam that morning and after only a few steps he saw a dumpster with strange glyphs marked on it in blood. He bent down in front of them to take a photo, in case it could help Crowley identify the specific spell if they couldn't find the witch. 

Sam moved off down the alley a couple more feet and turned back to look at Dean, instinctively not wanting to get too far away on his own.  As he shone his own flashlight around he saw a crumpled form lying on the ground by the side of the dumpster just out of view from where Dean was bent.

"Dean..."  The fear in Sam's voice had Dean on his feet and to Sam's side in an instant.  He turned his light at the area Sam was staring at and said in a worried voice. "I think that's our witch." 

Sam said, "So did that fix what is wrong with me?"

"Sorry Sammy, this guy must have died last night, which means his death didn't stop whatever is happening to you." Dean's voice was quiet. He was trying not to freak out, or at least not show Sam how desperate he felt inside. 

Sam's face crumpled in panic.  "What do we do now?"

Dean looked around, he felt they needed to fall back and regroup, but there was a cold sinking fear clawing at his insides, telling him that they were running out of time.  "We go back to the motel and figure this out together okay?"

Sam smiled trustingly at Dean and said, "Oh, okay."

Dean got Sam settled in with some food and he began to look at the photos from the alley on the laptop, hoping that being able to enlarge parts might give him some kind of clue.  He had forwarded all of them to Crowley and was about to call him when there was a knock at the door.

Sam was closest to the door so he got up and walked over to it.  Before Dean realized what he was doing Sam had his hand on the knob.  Dean called out for him to wait as Dean pulled his gun, but it was too late, Sam had the door open. 

Dean wasn't sure if he should let his breath out in relief, or curse, because the person on the other side of the door was Rowena.  Sam looked down at the short petite woman and asked, "Can I help you?"

She looked over at Dean and said, "Spell's progressed, I see."

Dean huffed under his breath, "Did Crowley call you?"

"Of course.  Fergus knows when he’s in over his head, which is more than I can say for you two knuckleheads."

She walked in and Dean said, “I wanted information, didn’t expect another house call, but I suppose I should know by now, your family does what it wants.”

Sam leaned down and looked at her, examining her face, “Are you a fairy?  Dean told me things like that were real but I didn’t expect to meet one.”

She looked up at him and said, “Oh Samuel, you are so much sweeter this way.”

She turned to Dean and asked, “Are you sure we have to fix him?”

Dean growled, “If you want to leave this room alive I would suggest you tell me everything you know.”

“Touchy, touchy.”  She smiled up at Sam and patted his cheek.

He gave a dimpled blushing smile in return and then looked at Dean and saw his cross expression and Sam’s smile turned into confusion.  “Did I do something wrong?”

Dean walked over to him and patted his back, “No Sammy, no, but you know what I do need?  I could use your help with some research okay?”

Sam looked down at him, his expression open and eager.  “Okay, yeah, I want to help, and you said I was really good at research right?”

He pulled a basic lore book that was mostly history and had nothing to do with this case out of Sam’s own bag and handed it to him.  “Here Sam, I need you to sit on this bed and read this book.  Read it cover to cover okay? That is really important, and then you can tell me everything you learn okay?”

He put his hand on the small of Sam’s back and led him over to the bed and got him settled in.

Dean went back over to Rowena who informed him that the symbols they had found were an archaic form of Celtic.  She explained that druids used it in their rituals.

Dean pulled her over to the table with the laptop on it as she continued telling him that there was only one family of witches that were versed in that kind of magic but she thought they were all dead.

Dean sat and turned the computer towards her and pulled up the image of the dead man they found in the alley and asked if this was one of the people she was talking about.

She confirmed it was and that his name happened to be Gideon Loughlin.  Dean asked her what she knew about the family and she informed him that they had come over to the New World about a hundred years ago and took over a small town on the Mississippi Delta.  They had a powerful spell book called the Black Grimoire, that was a tome of Druidic magic, which gave the family all their powers.  There were two other siblings besides Gideon.  Witches came from all around the world to study with them and learn the book’s secrets.

Supposedly hunters had wiped them all out, but evidently the rumors she had heard about a few of the family members escaping with the book were actually true.  She told Dean that with Gideon dead, the only way to break the curse on his brother was to find that book.

He looked up at her standing next to where he was seated at the table.  He stared into her eyes and angrily said, “You mean to tell me, you can’t break it?  I thought you were the biggest badass witch out there!”

She looked down at him haughtily rolling her eyes as she said, “Of course I could.  But witchcraft this complex would take time, more than Sam’s got.”

She turned and looked at where Sam sat on the bed, nose deep in the book he was reading.  Her brogue flowed thick from her tongue as she continued, “He’s already begun to forget himself, everyone he’s ever known, ever loved.”

She turned back to Dean, and it sounded like she was genuinely concerned when she stated heatedly, “Even you.”

Dean looked up at her, his face a twisted worried mess. 

She explained that soon Sam would forget how to speak and swallow.  She took a deep breath and said, “Sam Winchester’s going to die.”

Sam called out from the bed, “That sounds terrible.  I hope I can find something in this book to help that poor guy.”

Dean’s eyes teared up as he looked over at Sam whose nose was already back into his book, his eyes roaming the pages eagerly.

Dean told Rowena he needed a few minutes to talk things out with Sam.  He was surprised by the level of compassion she seemed to dote on his brother as she helped him stand.  She told the brothers she would wait out in the main room as they talked in the bathroom to give them some privacy. 

Her kindness was giving Dean the heebie jeebies, making him all kinds of suspicious, but he didn’t see that he really had a choice in accepting her help on this one.  He wasn’t about to lose Sam, _not this way, not in any way._

He led his brother into the bathroom and had him sit on the edge of the toilet.  He sat on the tub and took Sam’s hand.

Dean spent the next few minutes explaining to Sam who they were, and how they ended up in this predicament.  Sam seemed to take it all in almost as if he were listening to an audio recording of a very interesting book.  His eyes got wide during parts and he gripped Dean’s hand when he explained they were in love.  He said wow a couple of times and gasped at others. 

When Dean was done, Sam looked at Dean with his kaleidoscope eyes, stealing Dean’s breath.  He asked, “So I’m going to die?”

His voice was frail and full of fear.

“No.”  Dean was adamant.  “No Sammy, you aren’t gonna die.”

He reached over and ran his fingers through Sam’s hair, brushing it back away from his face on one side.  Sam leaned into the touch and Dean held his cheek in his palm, stroking across the high beautiful bone structure with his thumb.

“We are going to fix this.  You don’t have anything to worry about.  I’m gonna find this group of witches and take them out, steal their grimoire and then Rowena is going to fix you up just like new.”  He tried to keep his voice level and calm, but it cracked at the end and he swallowed hard.

Sam smiled at him and said, “Okay Dean, I trust you.”

It broke Dean’s heart.  He stood up abruptly, pulling Sam up with him.  He said, “Come here.”  And wrapped his arms around his brother.  He held him tight and then pulled back enough to brush Sam’s lips with his own.

“I know this is scary, but I love you, you just have to try to hold on to that okay?”

“I can feel it in my heart Dean, I love you more than anything, I can feel it, even as my memories of what you just told me about our lives are slipping away already, I feel you in my heart.”  He kissed Dean back with all that he had inside himself, hoping desperately it would be enough to convey what he was feeling.

Sam’s eyes were full of tears as Dean pulled away from the embrace.  “I gotta go Sammy, you just wait right here and I’ll be back in no time okay.”

“Yeah, Dean, okay.  Promise me you’ll be careful okay.”  He didn’t want to let Dean’s hand go, and reluctantly allowed his brother’s calloused fingers to pull gently out of his grasp.

“I will Sammy, I’ll be careful.  Don’t you worry.”  He gave the tips of Sam’s fingers one last quick squeeze and then he turned his back and grabbed for the door, before his own tears could escape down his cheeks.

He was met by Rowena, who jumped up from where she had been at the table across the room, moving closer to him as she asked in concern, “How is he?” 

Dean brushed the tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand and said brusquely, “Like you care.”

Dean took a seat on the end of one of the beds and the red head came and stood a few feet away in front of him. 

He looked up at her angrily.  “I’ve watched Sam die violently before, watched as he dropped into hell, and looked into his soulless eyes.  None of that felt as hopeless as this does.”  He wiped his hand down his face, trying to rid himself of the panic that was threatening to overwhelm him. 

 

Sam sat back down on the toilet lid.  His hands were shaking, long fingers kept twining and pulling apart with each other as he rubbed his hands together back and forth.  “Okay, all I have to do is hold on until Dean gets back. I can do this.”

He wasn’t sure if talking to himself was normal for him, but it felt like the perfect way to ensure he exercised his memory to its fullest until his brother could fix this.

“My name is Sam Winchester.  Dean is my brother, the love of my life.  We live together in a bunker and fight supernatural things that try to take over the world.”

He nodded at himself and put both of his palms against his knees.  He began rubbing up and down his legs nervously as he spoke again.  “My name is Sam Winchester.  Dean is my brother.”  His heart gave a jump at the thought of the gorgeous man who just left.  “I think I feel something I’m not supposed to for him.”  

He cleared his throat.  “We live together and fight things.”

He balled his hands into fists against his knees. 

 

Dean stood up and began to gather all the things he would need to fight these fucking witches.  He finished loading his guns with witch killing bullets and Rowena watched him as he moved efficiently, wasting no time on unnecessary motions.  She told him, “Our top priority is finding that grimoire.”

Dean stopped mid step, and turned fiercely burning eyes at her, things finally clicking into place.  “Of course, that’s your angle.”

He pointed his finger at her, “I knew your caring compassion was all a ruse.”

She gave an “Ooh,” and a shake of her head as if to deny it.

He stepped into her space, lording his height over her.  “Don’t deny it.  A powerful spell book shows up and suddenly you care what happens to my brother?  Come on, I don’t buy it.”

The redhead smiled slyly up at him, “I would have been a fool not to jump at this opportunity, plus if I can have you owing me a favor, how could I pass that up.”

Dean all but snarled in her face.  “You’re lucky I need your help, Rowena, cause with the way I’m feeling about witches right now, one of these bullets could just as easily have your name on it.”

He turned back and finished getting his gear together.

 

Sam splayed his hands out as he examined his long fingers and the scar across the palm of his left hand.  He said, “My name is Sam… Win.. Winchester.”

He brushed his right thumb along the deep scar.   It made him remember a man holding it, pushing into it until it hurt.  He pressed his thumb down hard into the old scar tissue, and felt only pressure, no pain.  He whimpered, unsure why feeling no pain made him so disconcerted.  “My name is…”

He heard a harsh male voice growl through an unknown part of his brain, “Sam.” The image of the man hurting his hand faded from his memory as the sound of his name faded from his mind.

He cleared his throat and tried again, “My name is Sam…”

The same male voice cried out in what felt like ecstasy, echoing through his memory, “Sammy…”  It faded into a whisper as well.

Sam got up and looked into the mirror, and didn’t recognize the man staring back at him.

 

Rowena balked at the idea that Dean wanted her to stay with Sam.  He told her that she had to, that he couldn’t take Sam with him, and he didn’t trust her to have his back anyway, so she had to stay here and take care of Sam.  He insisted, reminding her about the witch killing bullets in both of his guns.

She asked how in the world he would get the book translated without her and he assured her that he would figure something out.

 

As Sam stared at the stranger looking back at him, tears began to stream down his cheeks.  He was scared by the emptiness in his mind, unable to remember who he was, but his heart hurt, like he had just suffered a loss, a terrible loss of someone he loved desperately.  He wasn’t as bothered by the idea that he didn’t know who he was, as he was petrified by the panicked feeling of the hole in his heart, where he knew someone he loved used to be.

His shoulders shook with the force of the mourning and grief that his soul began to convulse around.  He had no idea who he was yearning for, but it made him feel lost, even more than not having the first clue about who he was.

 

Dean had the Loughlin’s address from the information they had taken from Barry’s office.  He pushed Baby as hard as he ever had to get to the witches before it was too late.  It took no effort at all to take out the chauffer standing by the car at the front of the house after asking him who was inside. 

He snuck in with even less trouble and called Rowena to ensure everything was prepared on her end for when he had the translation.  She assured him she was ready so he left the call open and dropped the cell into his pocket.

Dean made his way silently upstairs.  He pushed the first door open, holding his gun on the blonde lithe woman bent over a collection of insects.  He looked around the room, sure no one else was there except the dead Gideon laid out on the table in the middle of the area.

Rowena and Sam listened as Dean threatened the witch with his killer bullets, telling her to go to her grimoire and explain how to break the memory spell.  They also listened as the female voice came through the cell, clear as if she were in the room with them.   She taunted Dean, clearly unfazed by his threats.

Dean put the sight of the gun right where the bullet would take her head off, took a few more steps in her direction and said menacingly, “Listen bitch, I’m not asking you again.”

The man outside had lied when he said there was only one witch at home.  A male came lunging into the room, casting a spell as he moved.  It threw Dean backwards into a tall bookshelf.  The blast of it knocked his gun from his grasp and nearly knocked him out.  Dean tried to shake it off, but barely pushed himself up a few inches off the floor before the female began to chant words he didn’t understand. 

Suddenly a high pitched ringing pierced his skull and felt like he had been stabbed in both ears by ice picks.  He grabbed at his head as blood began to pour from his ears.  He cried out in pain.

Sam and Rowena heard the entire exchange and as Dean cried out, Sam, still unsure of his own name, yelled into the phone, “Dean!!!”

Sam came to in the Impala.  The smell of his surroundings tried to tickle memories in his mind but his brain refused to cooperate.  His eyes fell on a piece of paper taped to the inside of the windshield.   He grabbed it and read, “Your brother’s been kidnapped by a witch.  Found your stupid car and left you here.”

Something deep within him, knew someone he cared for would be disgruntled by the last of the note, but it faded as soon as it crossed his thoughts, just out of grasp.

He turned to get out of the car and saw another note that just said, “Stay.”

Every fiber of Sam’s being said someone was in danger, someone he couldn’t live without.  He ignored the note and climbed out of the car.

 

Dean came to, tied to a chair and heard the two witches fighting over bringing their brother back from the dead.  He feigned being unconscious as he tried to glean any info that would help in this fight.  After only a moment though, there was a loud banging of a door from downstairs.  The female left the room, leaving instructions for the male.

Dean raised his head and began to try to talk the male witch out of doing what his sister wanted.  The witch informed Dean that he was supposed to swap his brother’s soul for Dean’s.  The man began marking the dead body in a ritualistic fashion.  Dean began to work at the rope bonds that had his wrists tied.

 

Sam made his way to the back of the car on pure instinct.  Not really knowing what he was looking for.  Something made him feel he should open the trunk and upon doing so he saw another note saying to open the dark cover inside.  His eyes went wide when he saw all the things underneath that false bottom.  He didn’t know what any of it was but there was a note attached to a gun inside and another that indicated to fill it with witch killing bullets.  He looked again at the note in his hand that said his brother had been kidnapped by witches.  His heart gave a lurch at the word brother, making his breath catch in his throat.

He made his way up to the house, his body’s muscle memory showing him how to be stealthy without him realizing what he was doing or why.  He heard two women’s voices as soon as he entered the house.  When they came into view, he saw a petite redhead hanging on a wall bloody and frayed.  A tall blond was standing across the room from her looking like she was about to chuck a sharp piece of broken silver glass at the incapacitated smaller female.

He cocked the gun and as the blonde looked his way and made a snide remark, he showed her the note about the witch killing bullets.  She just huffed dismissively and turned back towards her helpless foe.  As soon as she raised the jagged glass Sam pulled the trigger.  The redhead fell hard against the floor almost at the same time as the blonde did.

 

Dean used the commotion from downstairs as a distraction to free himself and lunge for the male who was now wielding a fierce looking double ended ritual weapon.  Dean knocked it out of his hand and threw the guy across the room.  He grabbed the weapon himself but the witch raised his hand and Dean’s palm was instantly on fire, causing him to drop the blade.  The witch took the opportunity to run out of the room and Dean followed hot on his heels.

The witch stopped in his tracks at the half landing when he saw Sam with a gun pointed directly at him.  Dean rounded the corner and Sam’s attention was drawn to his movement.  Dean froze in place as Sam’s gun swung in his direction.

Sam didn’t recognize either man, but as his eyes found jade green orbs staring back at him from the angry muscular man at the top of the stairs his heart gave another lurch as his breath quickened in his chest.  The man pointed to himself and said insistently, “Brother,” and then pointed at the first man and said, “witch.”

Sam didn’t hesitate.  He put a bullet right in the chest of the closer man, dropping him instantly dead on the floor.

The smile of the surviving man, made Sam’s heart warm and fuzzy and did things to his nether region that he didn’t quite understand.  The man walked down the steps and patted him on the shoulder saying, “You did good Sammy.”

It caused the heat to radiate throughout his entire body, even though he wasn’t quite sure who this Sammy character was.

Dean tried to insist on Rowena allowing him to be in the room for the ritual to fix Sam, but she refused.  She told him all kinds of reasons why, and he would have fought longer but suddenly Sam started gasping for breath.  Dean carried him up the steps as Rowena rushed ahead to prepare the ritual.  Dean propped Sam’s butt against the end of the table, holding his body against his chest, with one hand as he pushed the dead man off the table unceremoniously with his other hand.  The body landed against the floor on the other side with a wet thud.

Dean laid Sam down on the table and as Sam continued to gasp for breath, Dean rubbed his fingers through Sam’s hair and said, “Just hold on a few more minutes for me Sammy, please.”

Sam looked up into the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen and could do nothing but nod in reply around the burning tightness in his chest.

Rowena told Dean to get out and he went downstairs to pace the floor.  It was only a minute or so before he looked up as a whooshing sound caught his attention and magenta light began to flicker from the upstairs area.  He heard Rowena’s voice chant unknown words and the light dissipated. 

Rowena began to walk slowly down the steps with the book clamped tightly in her arms.  Dean didn’t realize he had been holding his breath until Sam’s tall form came into view.  His heart felt like it was galloping hard against his ribs as he waited for what felt like an eternity for the recognition he longed to see.

Sam’s eyes found his and his mouth broke into a huge pearly grin, dimples creasing his beautiful face.  Sam pushed past Rowena and all but flew down the steps, his long legs managing three at a time.

Dean was almost bowled over by the force of the hug that Sam launched himself into from the bottom of the steps.  His arms wrapped tightly around Dean and if he hadn’t already been short of breath it would have been squeezed out of him entirely.

All Dean could manage was a “Heya Sam, how ya feeling?” before Sam whispered into his ear.  “I need you to get rid of Rowena right now so you can take me back to the motel and fuck me so hard I forget my own name again.”

Dean had to clear his throat and sidestep away from his brother, pulling his flannel shirt together and hoping it was long enough to disguise the epic hard on that had just taken up residence in his pants.  He chuckled low and gravelly as he said, “Whatever you need Sammy, whatever you need.”

He looked up at Rowena and walked over to her.  He jerked the book out of her hands and said, “Thanks for everything Red, we owe you one.”

She huffed and blustered a bit, but finally just said, “You’re no fun.”

She followed them back to the Impala, pouting the entire way back into town.  Sam called a cab to meet them at the motel and she got into it, still disgruntled that her prize had been stolen.  She looked out of the window and said, “I’ll be collecting that debt, you boys don’t want me as an enemy.”

Dean waved his hand dismissively, “Yeah yeah, we love you too Rowena.”

Dean turned to go back inside but Sam’s long legs carried him to the door first.  As soon as Dean had breached the opening, Sam pulled him the rest of the way inside.  Sam shoved Dean against the door as it closed and his mouth was on his brother’s instantly. 

He pulled back just enough to murmur into Dean’s lips, “I love you De, even when I didn’t know who I was, my heart knew I loved you.”

Dean’s insides flooded with warmth and contentment as he took Sam’s mouth again with his own.   Kissing him passionately before pulling back to add, “Good to know.  That way you’ll remember me when I make you forget your own name again.”  It ended with a growl against Sam’s throat as he bit down hard.

Sam cried out and then breathlessly whispered, “Dean.”

**Author's Note:**

> I can't thank [snipermathlove29](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snipermathlove29/pseuds/snipermathlove29) enough for requesting I do this piece. I had no idea when I agreed to it just how big of a challenge it would be. I had to really dig deep and get into the differences between Sam and Dean to try to stay true to their characters and how each would react differently from how the reverse happened in canon. Then throw in the fact that I hadn't even read WITINM since initially publishing it over a year ago and it was a real challenge to not only try to stay as close to the show canon as possible, but also having to stay true to the love story I had created in my own work and whoo. This was fun but such a challenge. I hope you think I did it justice. And I truly hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did the writing of it.
> 
> It was actually also a great break from Wincest Colored Glasses that I didn't even realize I needed. But don't worry I will be back to work on S2E10 bright and early tomorrow. 
> 
> I love you all and can't tell you what your support means to me!!!


End file.
